That La Kid

wishin' an' hopin'!

a change in me

A weird thing happened yesterday while I was singing in the shower.

Well wait, let me back up a bit.  When I got pregnant, my nose became very swollen and my voice got real deep.  I did a little research and tried to mention it to Dr. Wolanski.  This article describes my symptoms exactly and is what I believe that I had.  It’s all over my head, but, as the article mentions, once Bruce came into the world, the symptoms began to subside.

Fast-forward to present day.  My voice never did fully recover from pregnancy.  I can’t tell you how disheartening that has been.  I miss singing with the Disney Princesses.  I look at Bruce and just think, “well, I guess my new Gaston voice was worth it.”  I have always had pretty severe symptoms of what I believe is undiagnosed PCOS: facial hair, abnormal cycles, acne.  I’m 30, why do I still have acne?  I had even felt similar pain to that which I encountered that fateful Black Friday in 2011, but much less severe.  We were at Disney World in 2003.  I just could not get the crampiness to go away and was uncomfortable in every position.  In hindsight, I was playing with fire and should have gone to see a doctor.

Tom and I have taken a whole-body approach to health.  Maybe I could take a hormone to combat what I assume is high levels of testosterone that are producing many of these symptoms.  Or!  Maybe I could feed my body a diet of living, healthy, leafy deep green vegetables.  Maybe I can shrink the fat cells that (I assume) are producing some of the excess hormones that are doing this to me.  I believe Coca-Cola fed Mr. Nasty.  (You know, like the way Hexxus feeds on toxins and poisons in “Ferngully.”)  I believe my body wants to heal itself.  I believe my cells are slowly becoming more alive as I embrace the food that God gave us.


While I was in the shower yesterday, I got a little frog in my throat while I was singing (badly).  I couldn’t seem to clear it.  I just kept singing (badly).  It felt different.  It sounded different.  Hmm, I wondered…  I tried an oldie but a goodie and suddenly I was singing (badly) along with songs that I haven’t been able to sing (at all) for a couple of years.

I may not know what I’m talking about, but I’m going to pretend that the amount of weight I’ve lost so far is already affecting me in positive ways.  I’m just going to assume this whole thing is slowly but surely beginning to impact my health.

I used to belt this out in the car, and Tom would say, “Dang! You sang the ass off that song!”  I’m not back to that level, but it’s really nice to be able to sing it, period:

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So close to being out of the 230s forever.  So close.  232.2.  The dress I wore to Erika’s wedding is big on me.  It’s not potato sack big, but it’s definitely, “hmm, this isn’t as flattering as I recall” big.  The dress that I wore to my parents’ wedding (MY PARENTS’ WEDDING!!!!) is also a little on the roomy side.  It fits, and I’m wearing it to a wedding this weekend.  It’s comfortable, not huge.  However, the dress that I wore to Will and Jamie’s wedding fits, and it didn’t always.  Woot!

omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg… this is happening.

That’s just diet.  (Not dieting.  Not temporarily restricting my calories, but deciding to change what I habitually eat as a person, and what we eat as a family, to food instead of “food products.”)  Imagine if I had also been running all this week.

Tom is on day 3 of a 3 day juice fast.  We checked his blood pressure last night and it is alarmingly high.  I am hoping that if he can lose about 25 lbs. it will start to work itself out.  But I don’t know, his dad is in the ideal bodyweight range and he has high blood pressure.

“Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food”
― Hippocrates

Did you know that while the weight limit of a bouncy castle is 800 lbs, it’s limited to 160 lbs per individual?  I’d like to be able to bounce in a bouncy castle someday.

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ermagherd! strerss!

I had a very happy birthday week.  When I left Charlotte and headed towards Charlottesville for Labor Day, my weight was at an all-time low of 232.8.  (Well, all-time so far in this new weight loss journey.  Obviously, I’ve been that weight before.)  I got on the scale at my Dad’s house at some point at it said 239.something.  I assumed it was wrong.  I was feeling like I must be 230 when I weighed in the last time at his house at 237.  When I got home, I was still around 236.  Today, I am 235.  Man.  Three pounds.  Do you know how hard it was to get to 232?  Tom brought up a valid point, that I’m forever out of the 240s.  I remember dancing between 238 and 241 and hating myself.  I tell you what, 232-235 doesn’t feel much better.

I read somewhere that when our ancestors felt the stress of famine, or winter, or a big sabertooth tiger, they would eat as part of their body’s reaction.  Nowadays, we have different stresses.  No famine.  (That’s for sure.)  Things like deadlines affect our bodies much like the sabertooth, and our subconscious is like, “Ah! Stress! We may not survive! Pack on calories! Survive! Survive! Survive!”

I’m sure you think it’s bullcrap.  I did.  Until today.  Today, I am stressing and I just want to eat.  I had a lot of cake over the past 3 days, but now the cake is gone.  So, hopefully we can get back on track.  I feel so stressed.  The house is a wreck.  I MUST finish some illustrations and I’m just not feeling motivated.  I’ve got to find time to jog at some point.  It’s Wednesday!  I haven’t jogged at all this week!  We bought a piece of furniture from World Market and the doors don’t close the way they’re supposed to.  I spent a whole day putting it together, all for the final piece, the door, to not fit properly.  I wasted a whole day that I should have spent illustrating!

There’s nothing to do about that now but sigh and move on.  I have to take the thing back to World Market, because I’m not keeping a messed up one, and probably put another one together.  I guess that doesn’t have to happen today, or even this week.  So, I need to let that go.

I also can’t find my very expensive Nikon.  I thought it was in the truck for a long time.  Then, I assumed I took it to Easter in Virginia, but I didn’t have it to take pictures.  I never had that “AH!” moment when I realized that I left it in a cab or something.  We had it when we went to get Bruce’s picture taken with the Easter Bunny.  That’s the last time I remember having it.  I hope beyond hope that it’s at my parents’ house, but no one has seen it.  I’m devastated.  The loss keeps me up at night and the sleep depravation = more stress.

My plan is to be 225 by Bruce’s party on 9/28.  215 by Halloween would be nice.  205 by Thanksgiving would feel spectacular.  And while we’re setting goals, lets see what we can do about being under 200 by Christmas, 195 to be specific.

I’m going to see if I can get the scale down to 229 by Sunday.  I just have to lose the pounds I accidentally put back on with cake and then 3 more.  I already feel things starting to settle back down.  I ate out for lunch today with my Great Aunt Sara Beth, so there’s no reason for me to go out and have a big sit-down meal.  A few smoothies should do the trick, fill me with healthy veggies, and motivate me to stay motivated.

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15 POUNDS!!!

Verifiable.  Unverifiable, maybe as much as 25 lbs.  I’m SO elated to have quit bouncing around the 238-240 mark.

And the kicker, like the icing on the cake is that I feel GREAT.

We’re heading to WDW to celebrate my 30th birthday this weekend, and I’m already packed.  Bruce’s 1st Birthday invitations should go out as soon as we get back (or I could take them to Fl. and have them post marked Walt Disney World) and they’re already designed.  Printing will probably be an all-day thing, but I’ve got TWO DAYS ’til we leave that won’t be full of packing/preparing for this trip.

Plus, I ordered most of the pieces of my outfit for a steampunk wedding that I’m going to next month, and they all fit.  It’s really starting to come together.

Maybe I shouldn’t be disclosing my weight.  Hm.  OR!  Maybe weight, like age, is just a crappy number.  I mean, society can judge me by that.  That’s fine.  But that’s not who I am.  And, I mean, really, as I’ve said before, you can get all in a huff about that number, but it’s not like I can hide it.  I wear my shame around my body every day.  And yeah, I am ashamed of it.  A lot of “husky” folks may not be, but I am.  I feel super uncomfortable in my own skin.   I’m always tugging at my clothes and hiding behind other people in pictures and leaning on walls at parties.  That’s not to say that I will feel more at home my thinner skin, but when I was thinner back in the day, I was more comfortable.

I’m suddenly addicted to Simple and Fit Veggie Omelets from IHOP made with egg whites, mushrooms and spinach.

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bloggin’ bloggin’ bloggin’

Tom and I took Bruce and Jasmine for a very unsuccessful walk last night with the new, way cool jogging stroller.  We usually do 5 laps around the big Bridle Trace circle.  Bruce started wailing on lap 1.  He was just really tired.  We were able to pacify him for a while, but Tom ended up taking him home early while I went on lap 3.  I walked up and down our street until I was able to get to 3 miles.

But the jogging stroller was cool.  It has rubber tires.  It’s very difficult to navigate.  For those of you keeping count, it’s Bruce’s 4th stroller.  This one isn’t like the others, though.  It’s basically useless except for running.  I told Tom that I feel bad about having bought 4 strollers, but this one doesn’t really count because it’s just like an exercise toy, or weights or something.  It would be really, really miserable to take this stroller to Disney World.  Or the mall.  Or anywhere really.  I cannot stress enough the inability to steer.

I started reading blogs yesterday of women with PCOS who are trying to conceive.  It dawned on me that my struggles with that might be relevant to someone somewhere on the internets.  So, I went back to my ol’ LiveJournal and collected everything that seemed relevant.  I don’t know how I feel about it.  I like this blog being about life with Bruce.  But at the same time, it IS relevant.  Part of the story is us trying, trying, trying.

So, if you’ve found me today and you’re into that sort of thing, you can search my tags for LJ to find the agonizing pre-baby ovarian cyst stuff.

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i need a better scale

I haven’t lost noticeable pounds. Been working on this for a week and I’m still about the same weight. I think. When I lean on my scale I can fudge the numbers. There is a bit of a caveat. I think last week I was in complete denial about hitting the 250 mark. The past few days I have hovered around 240. (I don’t care if you want to judge me based on those numbers. I mean, I walk around everyday wearing all that weight so it’s not like I can hide it from you.) Anyway, it’s hard to tell. I can report that I feel MUCH less bloated. I’d like o o hardcore for a week or so and see how close I can get to 230. Today I had a bowl of cereal, 2 giant kale leaves, a handful of blueberries, a handful of grapes, and a big ol’ honkin’ bowl of watermelon. It doesn’t sound as good as I feel. I feel like I ate a mountain of kale.

I want to see if I can cure my own (undiagnosed) PCOS. I want to have a pregnancy without gestational diabetes. I want to feel good in my clothes. I want to not get cancer. Do you have any idea how much you can decrease you health risks by increasing your vegetable intake? It’s insane.

Just consider running to McDonald’s Bill Clinton to modern-day vegan Bill Clinton. It’s night and day.

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sipping on kale

I’m not saying anything, I’m just saying that I’m not busting out of my fat pants today.  No significant loss, but I feel good.  No weight or inches lost, but my fat pants are loose again. 

And that’s with just 2 days of “wogging” with a walk in between them.  I think I could do this.  I think I could quietly sip on kale smoothies and work or play with Bruce or watch tv.  I wonder what would happen to my body if I ate a solid foundation of fruits and veggies for the next 7 years.  (I only say that because most of your cells regenerate every 7 years or something, so what if all my regenerating cells were made of spinach and strawberries instead of fries?)

I don’t know if people were meant to run.  I know we can… I am just trying to think of a scenario besides running from a sabor tooth tiger in which my ancestors would have been running 26.2 miles.  Even the tiger wouldn’t have chased them that long.  Who came up with the idea for a marathon?  What a compelling testament to endurance – holy smokes!  Is it a Greek think?  I feel like somebody was running somewhere to tell someone something about a war.  Or something. 


It is said that he ran the entire distance without stopping and burst into the assembly, exclaiming “νενικηκαμεν’ (nenikekamen)”, (“We wοn”), before collapsing and dying.


So why do we do it?

Future Wendy, if you’re reading this: you feel good.  Remember this moment.  Try it again.  I know you succumbed to the cheese fries at Outback and feel gross.  That’s no reason to give up.  Have a (can’t believe I’m buying into it) NutriBlast and keep moving forward.  

We believe in you. 

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since I’m sitting here doing nothing

My arm is asleep.


But since I’m sitting here doing nothing and I’ve pretty much missed the entire episode of Judge Judy today, I thought that I might as well kill some time and try to wake up my left hand by typing with it on the phone.

Tom recently said, “I wish you loved yourself as much as I love you.” And honestly, I can’t stand myself. I’d never judge anyone else based on their BMI, but I find my own obesity disgusting. It’s weird. I love a lot of fat people, just not the one that greets me at the mirror every morning.

I sound a lot like a racist who’s like, “I have a black friend!”

Anyway. I’m trying to get to a place where I can love myself again. I haven’t told anyone, but I’ve decided that the easiest way to get to that place is to run there. Last night, I went out and bought $140 shoes. I went to a running shop and had my feet measured and arch examined. It really was a pleasant experience. I have a flat foot, for which there was only one option in my choice of light blue or slightly lighter blue. My second toe actually pushed me up half a size, which is a bummer. $140!!!! The last pair of tennis shoes that I bought were $44.99, I think. The ones before that were $13.99 from Walmart.

I took the new shoes for a “wog” last night with Tom. My calves and arches hurt like a mug, but there’s no blisters! So, for me, that’s a breakthrough. I’ll take it. I take sore muscles over exploding flesh any day.

So, here ya’ go. My special shoes. (No wonder Bruce doesn’t have adorable little Asian feet.  I mean, he does, but they are huge on him and getting bigger everyday.)  They’re huge. They’re ugly. They’re expensive. And they’re special.


I started running in March but quit after the first week. I hope the sticker shock of the new shoes will help keep me motivated. That, and today I registered for the Enchanted 10k at the Disney Princess Half-Marathon Event.

I am not sure how I feel about the Princess being my first race. I think the WDW Marathon might have more meaning or the Dine ‘n Dash one in the fall. Princesses aren’t really my thing.

But I kind of think it’s my destiny.

I don’t think it’s impossible that God wants me to be healthier and happier and stop treating my body like a sugar mill. I’m not ruling out the idea of divine intervention via peer pressure from Danielle. That’s possible? Right?

I’ll be the first to admit that the idea of my fat ass running is laughable. But hopefully my ass won’t be that fat for too long. I wonder what it would be like to wear a medium or at least a large. I wonder how it would feel to not just have to stand there while Mom, Trudy, Haley and Sunny shop for normal people clothes. I wonder how it will feel to see my risk of cancer and heart disease plummet. I wonder if I’ll be able to buy a swimsuit without a skirt on it at some point in my life. I wonder what my great-grandkids will ask me when I’m still alive at 91.

Anyway. The adventure begins!